


The Blind Date

by foreverfixation



Series: snowbaz one-shots [1]
Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - Normal Life, Blind Date, Fluff, Kinda?, M/M, One Shot, baz punches a dude in the face, it's kinda awesome, simon gets upset
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-02-23
Packaged: 2018-05-22 21:26:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6094492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foreverfixation/pseuds/foreverfixation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Simon gets stood up for a blind date, and Baz steps in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Blind Date

**Author's Note:**

> A short "normal" one-shot. Not really much else to say, but this is the first fanfiction I'm posting online so be kind, please? Also, forgive my utter lack of imagination in the title (I'm crap at naming things.)

I opened the door to Chili’s and walked in. As I stood behind a family that should’ve stopped after two kids, I regretted ever coming here. As much as I love Chili’s—their tableside guac is to die for—I still wasn’t quite used to eating alone. After my boyfriend of 3 months broke up with me two weeks ago, I had decided to continue eating here every Friday night; unfortunately it wasn’t the same without someone to share it with.

The oversized family was told that their party of 8 couldn’t immediately be accommodated—seriously, who has 6 kids these days?—and stormed out angrily. As the rest of the restaurant came into view, I saw a cute blond guy start frantically waving in my direction. I raised an eyebrow, but decided to go with it and told the hostess I was with him.

“I was beginning to think you weren’t coming,” he said breathlessly, as I gave the waitress my drink order (a mango iced tea, if you’re curious).

I checked my watch. It was 7:50. Poor guy must’ve been stood up for a 7:30 date. “Yeah, there was a huge accident on my way here. Sorry.”

“So, uh, my name’s Simon. Simon Snow.” Thank God, whatever dating website he used didn’t have names.

“I’m Baz. Uh, Pitch.” We shook hands. Are all blind dates this awkward? Remind me to never use online dating.

“You’re even cuter than your profile picture.” He’s staring at me. (The profile picture looked like me?) He looks like a puppy dog. Crowley, why does he have to be so damn cute?

Thankfully, the potentially awkward silence was broken by the waitress clearing her throat. “Are y’all ready to order?” she asked.

“Yeah; I’ll have an order of tableside guac and a cheeseburger.” I ordered and looked at him expectantly.

“Um, I’d like an order of cheese fries and one order of steak frajitas.” The waitress nodded and walked away.

“So . . . you’re in college, right?” Simon asked me. I nodded. “What’re you studying?”

“Umm . . .” Just then my phone lit up. My ex had updated his Facebook status: “45 minutes late to my blind date! Think he’s still there? ;)” with a selfie of himself outside Chili’s. 

I felt my stomach drop to my feet. “Uh, I have to go to the restroom. Be right back.” I got out of there as fast as I could . . . just as I saw my ex walk through the door.

I stood by the restroom door, which was just close enough to hear what was going on at the table.

Turns out my stupid ex hadn’t come alone. Not only had he not ever planned on attending this date, but he intended on making a mockery out of Simon. I watched as he walked up and started laughing at him. What did I ever see in this asshole? 

“Oh my god, you actually stayed to eat alone?” I heard my ex say. I began to grind my teeth. That boy is practically the human embodiment of sunshine and you’re mocking him because you stood him up? 

“Look at this.” One of his buddies pointed to the table. “He ordered an extra drink for his imaginary date.” Raucous laughter sounded from the table.

“B-but—” I heard Simon stutter. His head started to turn, and I hid behind the wall, hopefully in the nick of time.

Then something occurred to me. Why was I hiding? I hadn’t done anything wrong. So maybe I decided I wanted to be some guy’s blind date rather than eat alone. Sue me.

When I stepped out from behind the wall, I saw Simon run out of the restaurant, probably crying. My dumbass ex-boyfriend just stood there guffawing. So what did I do? I walked up behind him and stepped on the heel of his shoe.

“That’s for bullying an innocent guy,” I said. When he turned around, I punched him in the face. “And that’s for me.” I heard gasps from the surrounding tables. He stared at me, eyes wider than a deer’s, and, whimpering, slunk out of the restaurant with his cronies.

I felt a hand on my shoulder. “Excuse me, sir,” a small, red-faced man whom I took to be the manager standing behind me said. “I saw that whole scene. And while I appreciate what you’ve done, I have to ask you to leave.” His eyes were apologetic.

“I understand,” I answered, throwing a $50 bill on the table next to me. 

Thankfully, when I got outside, I saw Simon sitting on the bench beside the restaurant—bawling his eyes out, as I had expected. 

I sat down next to him and offered him a tissue. He sniffled and accepted it, and we sat in silence for a few minutes. Then I turned to him and whispered, “I’m sorry.” He didn’t respond, so I launched into a long, convoluted explanation of that whole scene, complete with an extensive, painful rehashing of my breakup. Eventually I ran out of breath, and he continued to just sit there as I gasped for air.

I decided to just accept my fate and got up to walk away, but I felt a tug on my sleeve and a whispered “I forgive you.” Shocked (because I obviously didn’t deserve it; seriously, what kind of a dick leaves a guy who is literally a puppy dog to take a beating?), I turned around . . . and found Simon’s face inches away from my own. (And when I say inches, I mean, like, the width of two of my fingers. So close I could only see his nose in full if I closed one of my eyes.) I felt my face begin to burn as his eyes searched mine. The whole world seemed to grind to a halt. As we stood there, stock still, I became aware of his hands on my shoulders, his curls on his forehead, his breath on my skin. I kinda started to freak out, so I opened my mouth to stutter something out . . . and he kissed me. (Probably to keep me from talking and ruining the moment.) All of a sudden, the world started again, and I could feel it spinning. Simon’s hands were in my hair, and I wrapped my hands around his waist. I had always thought people were exaggerating when they said they felt fireworks, but I realized in that moment that I had simply been kissing the wrong people. (Super cliché, I know.)

Eventually we needed to stop for air, and we pulled apart, breathless. “Wow” was all I could whisper, and I saw a smile break across Simon’s face. I moved back toward him and rested my forehead on his. “So, was this a successful blind date?” I asked with a slight smirk.

He laughed and tilted his chin up slightly. “You know, I believe it was,” he replied, just before I closed the gap between us once more.


End file.
